Page 115 of The Commons

My eyes shoot to him instantly.

“You got this,” he whispers again, gripping his throat, still trying to help me through unimaginable pain.

Oh my God. I need to get to him! And this demon is right in front me. I can feel her, hear her breath. She’s close enough to kill me. Crap! I quicken my pace, cutting desperately. And just as she flies a kick to my head, the bind suddenly releases, and my hands break free. I duck just in time, anticipating that stupid common move.

The escape throws her off balance, and she topples to the floor. Her eyes flare, and she snatches that monstrous stick of hers again, rising back to her feet, and in a blink, she flies it toward my... my stomach?

Oh no! I panic. Flex. Flex. Flex. Before I can escape, the impact hits me, and a scream rips through my throat.

I growl, gripping my stomach, eyes flying up to see Patron De Londe violently kicking Pesh on the stomach. I hear Pesh’s strained groan as he grips the cold floor in excruciating pain.

“Pesh!” I scream, my eyes colliding with his. No, no, no.

Before I can steady myself, she towers over me and seizes my face. I glare up at her, sweat stinging every part of me. She smiles like it’s already over as she closes in to kill me.

Over my dead body.

Before she can twist my neck or something more animalistic, my hands slide to the dagger beside me.

Slash. Slash. Slash.

The blade rips through her skin, grazing her stomach, slicing her arms, and who knows where else. I continue to slash any and everywhere, sending her screaming as blood gushes down her body.

Using this opportunity, I wrench the stick from her grasp, disarming her before the pain subsides.

In haste, I turn to check on Pesh. And he seems to be getting worse. I can see the life draining from his face—his eyes turning blue.

In excruciating, inexpressible pain, I hear him whisper, “…That’s… my… girl…”

I realize he is on the verge of giving up. I can’t let that happen.

I need to finish this fast! I dash forward, but I don’t swing for Beatrice—no. I swing her stick to one of the chandelier lights above.

Crack!

The glass breaks in a burst of sparks, plunging down on Beatrice, toppling her, shards of glass flying in the atmosphere.

Oh God, that took forever.

Alarmed, Patron De Londe stands up. I wait. And just as his gaze shifts toward her, I secretly slide the dagger next to the elevators—within Pesh’s reach.

I hope Pesh saw me do it, but I’m not sure. I look behind to see that Beatrice has passed out from the glass that hit her.

Suddenly, Londe turns to me and his eyes light up like fire. “Oh, Shantavia, you really think you can defeat me? See, you would have been the perfect Patron had you not done that meaningless act of sacrifice in the Meaning Test. Patrons don’t sacrifice themselves. They sacrifice other people for themselves. That’s why I’m so surprised at Pesh, to be honest. I’m not actually!” He laughs in a patronizing voice, taking a step toward me with each word.

“He’s just like his mother! Everything that repulses me, but the thing is, the savior just ends up getting killed in the end.”

My face growls, indignant. “We’ll see about that.”

Suddenly, I notice Shay and Patron Brik walking toward me from the elevators. Is that a sword in Shay’s hands? I avert my gaze to Patron Brik, who seems to have a bandage around one of his eyes. I wonder who did that to him? I see him tighten his fists as Shay’s darting eyes glare at me with fury.

Before my gaze can leave Shay, Brik charges at me. And I charge back. Pesh gave me the rundown of this idiot’s potential moves last night.

I fight Brik ruthlessly. I am not playing games. I fight with all the rules Pesh taught me. I jab, kick, slide. And within minutes, I defeat Patron Brik.

“Where are the backup copies, Pesh!?” Patron De Londe barks, torturing him.

As I am about to turn from Brik, Shay comes from my blind spot, pointing his sword to my neck. Argh!